


Red Lights

by jaeger_delta (deltasierra)



Series: Going Dutch [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Amsterdam, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Prostitution, Red Light District
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-08
Updated: 2014-02-08
Packaged: 2018-01-11 15:50:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1174913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltasierra/pseuds/jaeger_delta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raleigh's job takes him to Amsterdam for a year, and when he's wandering the Red Light District, he comes across the prettiest male hooker he's ever seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red Lights

**Author's Note:**

> Last month [achilleees](http://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleees) was in Amsterdam and threw out a Chaleigh red lights district prompt and _I am Dutch_ so of course I had to write that shit down.
> 
> This was posted serially to my Tumblr, and it's still mostly unedited and unbeta'd. It's a one shot, but this is probably going to be my go-to smutverse. So don't worry, there will be more Amsterdam!hooker!slut!Chaleigh. <3

A year in Amsterdam is definitely not the worst thing Pentecost could do to him, Raleigh Becket figures. He’s there overseeing the construction of the PPDC’s new European office building and when he’s not trudging through the muddy construction site trying to make sense of the terribly-accented English the Dutch are spouting he wanders around the confusingly smushed-together city with all of its __grachten__ and tiny alleys and cobblestones and trams that don’t give a fuck about where you're walking. The city centre is littered with tiny shops, thousands of bicycles, people live on boats that don’t go anywhere, and yeah, the infamous drugs and prostitutes are around, too.

 

He’s mostly steered clear of _de Wallen_ , Amsterdam’s Red Light District, because he is a respectful businessman, or so he tells himself. But earlier that day he had Yancy on the phone, both pissed off and barely coherent because Raleigh forgot about the time difference and “it’s fucking 4 in the morning, you asshole”. And Yancy’d been all like, look, you’re spending a year in Amsterdam, you’re not gonna sit around in an office like a dork, go live it up, you sad bastard.

 

He is a bit of a sad bastard, at that. The lengthy business trip wasn’t exactly unwelcome after his long-term relationship with Mako crashed and burned, on account of Raleigh coming out of the closet. Because she was his best friend, and he loves her, and now it’s all kind of fucked up—so being on the other side of the world? Not such a bad idea.

 

Nevermind that despite being absolutely sure he really, really loves dick, he hasn’t actually ever been near anyone else’s. Well, Yancy’s, but, _gross._

Fuck it, if he’s going to be here for all of twelve months, he might as well go check out the infamous prostitution district, if only to shut Yancy up about it. There’s only women behind those windows anyway, right?

 

Right.

 

He’s standing face-to-face with the most gorgeous man to ever live, as far as he’s concerned. Tall and muscular but also lean and there’s _curves_ and a chest with the loveliest _ginger_ hair trailing down to a tiny black thong that hides exactly nothing concerning the size of its contents. And are those freckles, goddammit.

 

Fuck, it’s impolite to stare at a hooker in the window, right? Yeah, he should, keep walking, before—

 

The man is gone and then a door opens and his face pops out, together with a sculpted arm and divine hips and _dimples_ _._

 

The guy says something in Dutch, but the lack of guttural noises tells Raleigh that it isn’t the man’s native tongue, so he opts for English.

 

“Er… no thanks,” he mumbles, backing away already.

 

The hooker bursts into a big smile. “Oi, American,” he laughs. “Saw you checkin’ me out, mate. C’mon, you don’t want a piece of this?” And rubs his own ass cheek as he rolls it towards Raleigh.

 

“N-no, I’m good, er…” Raleigh stammers, pretty sure his face is like fire engine red. That Australian accent. _Fuck_.

 

The hooker rolls his eyes and crooks his finger, beckoning him. “C’mere, big boy,” the hooker says, voice dropping to ridiculously thick and sultry. “Tell me, what’s your name?”

 

Raleigh finds himself inexplicably drawn in, like, the top half of his body wants to scream and run away back to his tiny flat with impossibly steep stairs to jack off to gay porn, but the lower half is resolutely stepping towards the hooker like there’s a gravity pull on his dick.

 

Pretty sure he’s close enough to touch but the hooker doesn’t touch, simply lets his eyes drink up Raleigh, staring him up and down, licking his lips.

 

“Fifty for a blow, hundred to fuck you, two hundred to fuck me,” the hooker says.

 

The mental image is too much. And fuck, Raleigh’s getting hard, he knows it, wants this impossibly gorgeous prostitute every which way from Sunday but doesn’t have a clue  _how_ , he hasn’t even done any of this gay sex stuff before. Not that he doesn’t know how it works, but…

 

The hooker glances around the street, then pulls Raleigh into the shadow of the small doorway, pressing their bodies together. Fuck, now the guy can  _feel_  he’s hard, Raleigh’s erection pressing against his upper thigh.

 

“There we go,” the hooker grins, hitching his leg up a little into Raleigh’s crotch, and he groans. Is this normal hooker behavior? Raleigh isn’t sure.

 

The hooker bites his lip. “Tell you what,” he says. “Just come in and let me take care of that for ya.”

 

He’s not offering for free, is he? Hookers don’t do that. Or maybe it’s just the guy’s way of tempting him… and it’s working, because when he put it like that it doesn’t sound weird, practical, like it’s just a business transaction, the way the price list did.

 

The hooker’s fingers—very long, graceful fingers, Raleigh notices—drape lightly around his tie. And tug, just a little.

 

Raleigh follows.

 

 

The hooker closes the curtains and closes the door, and then Raleigh follows him to a back room, somewhat relieved that they’re not, like, going to do anything in the window space, which is what he figured would happen. He’s not really well-versed in window prostitution etiquette, really.

 

The back room is lit with red fluorescent tubes, and Raleigh’s kind of sad that the hooker’s ginger locks look brown now, and why is he thinking like that, this is just a… whatever the hell it is. But it’s not a freaking date, Rals.

 

The hooker smiles and gestures for Raleigh to sit down on the small bench and nudges him down with a hand on Raleigh’s shoulder. Raleigh’s so nervous he’s possibly shaking and the guy moves to slide Raleigh’s coat off his shoulders with a soft smile.

 

“First time for this sorta thing, ain’t it?” the hooker says. “‘s okay, leave it to me.” Grins. “Know what I’m doin’.” 

 

He sinks onto the floor, with way more grace and charm than you’d figure a window prostitute to have, like he’s not flashing his near-naked body at passersby all night long, like they are in their own fantasy world and none of this is base and crude and shallow, the way Raleigh figured visiting a hooker would be like.

 

The hooker’s hands push his knees apart and the guy shuffles in between them, slides his hands up Raleigh’s thighs and looks up as he unbuttons Raleigh’s jeans and slides the zipper down with slow, elegant movements. Raleigh’s breath hitches, how is this even real, and the hooker’s gaze is drinking him up again, keenly observing Raleigh’s reactions.

 

The hooker’s fingers thrum over Raleigh’s dick, still in its trappings of underwear, and the guy slides a finger across the length—still pressed to the side—and lets out a low whistle. “You  _are_  a big boy, aren’t ya,” the hooker says, and is the guy’s voice hoarse? Raleigh swears he can hear it, like the hooker’s not just impressed but turned on as well. And it’s like he can’t even remember how to use words, he’s just sitting there panting and biting back moans.

 

And Raleigh’s so hard, he’s so freaking hard it hurts, wants his dick inside the hooker’s sensuous, sinful mouth so badly, aches for wetness and tightness and pressure—

 

The hooker pulls back the elastic band of his boxers, fishes a condom out of his back pocket, rolls it over Raleigh’s length and then swallows his cock.

 

“Oh god, oh god, wow, oh, fuck,” Raleigh groans, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the small bench, his hips bucking up hard into the hooker’s mouth, which is so hot, so wet, so— _fuck_  how is he doing that with his tongue and pulling Raleigh’s boxers and jeans down further, hand cupping his balls and massaging them with those freakishly long, firm fingers. And Raleigh’s had blowjobs before, but from girls, and those were always  _okay_  but never made his entire freaking body light up with pure need like this. The hooker seems to smile around his cock, eyes twinkling, and then—then takes him down all the way, he can feel the guy’s lips press against the base, and Raleigh whimpers, lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched whine and he’s coming so hard he nearly slides off the bench if the hooker’s steady hands weren’t keeping his hips in place.

 

The hooker pulls off, hands swiftly tugging off the condom, tying it off and flicking it into a bin in the corner. And Raleigh swears the guy looks a little disappointed.

 

“I-I’m sorry,” Raleigh stutters, like, maybe he came too fast. But it was so good, even with the latex in the way, and he couldn’t hold it back.

 

The hooker flashes him a smile. “No worries, mate. Just wish I coulda tasted that nice cock of yours with my tongue, but my line of business, don’t wanna catch something nasty—”

 

Raleigh groans, burying his face in his hands. “Are you always this forward,” he mumbles.

 

“‘m a hooker,” the guy points out. “People pay me to fuck, the hell do I gotta be subtle about?” He’s grinning as he says it though, so Raleigh figures it’s okay, maybe.

 

“I don’t have herpes,” Raleigh blurts out, and the hooker bursts into loud laughter.

 

“Mate, you’re something else,” the hooker laughs. He tucks Raleigh’s dick back into his boxers, pulls his pants up and zips him up, and do hookers do that? Raleigh has no idea, but the gesture is so… intimate, somehow, like the guy really is taking care of him.

 

“Know what,” the hooker starts with a sly grin, “You get tested, then come back here with a piece of paper that says you’re clean, and you let me get a taste of your All-American cock, yeah?”

 

“Wh-wha… what,” Raleigh manages to say, which isn’t really saying anything. “You want me to come back?”

 

“Sure, mate,” the hooker says. “Regular source of income. And you’re way better than some wrinkly hairy old dude with a small smelly dick, so it’s a win-win.”

 

“What about you, you’re clean?” Did he just say that, like he’s actually considering the guy’s offer?

 

“You bet,” the hooker says. And actually takes a piece of paper out of his pocket. “I get tested every month and play safe, yeah?”

 

Raleigh can’t read a word on the form, which just has a bunch of acronyms that mean absolutely nothing to him, like  _GGZ_  and  _SOA_. Well, he recognizes ‘chlamydia’ and ‘negatief’, but...

 

“I can’t read this,” he says, frowning.

 

The hooker gets up and shrugs. “Hey, whatever,” he says, a little annoyed, snatching the form from Raleigh’s hands. “Was just an offer.” He holds up his hand. “That’ll be fifty euros, mate.”

 

Yeah, Raleigh should’ve figured this wasn’t a freebie.

 

 

Yancy, of course, knows something is up in like three seconds. When Raleigh explains, he has to listen to his brother laughing his ass off for like ten minutes over Skype, followed by, so are you taking that test, Rals?

 

No, right? He’s not going back to the hooker. Who is ridiculously hot, and sexy, and  _a hooker_ , jesus, Raleigh. Lots of gay bars in Amsterdam, why not go there, chat up a nice man who’s not a sex worker. Not that there’s anything wrong with that occupation. But. Uh.

 

So yeah... he gets tested. Finds out what those acronyms on the form are about. Learns that the Dutch have a very practical attitude when it comes to sex, which is both refreshing and awkward. Late at night he’s flipping channels and comes across a show called  _Spuiten en Slikken_ , which is Dutch for  _Squirting and Swallowing_ , and features a lot of drugs and genitals, completely uncensored. What the hell is up with this country? Also, there are boobs on TV like all the time, and not even on pay-per-view or anything. Suddenly, the hooker’s forwardness doesn’t seem so out of place anymore. Maybe ‘round these parts Raleigh is the weird one, getting all blushy about something the Dutch consider a basic part of life.

 

Three days later, he’s walking down  _de Wallen_  again, pretending to search for that window but he knows exactly where it is, ten meters from the bridge across from the Thai ‘massage salon’. He’s just dawdling, not sure about going there still, scuffling hesitantly in the general direction of Amsterdam’s prettiest male prostitute.

 

The hooker is leaning into the window, both forearms braced against it in a way that really, really brings out the rippling muscles on his chest, fucking hell.

 

He looks at Raleigh and bursts into a wide grin, dimples deep and inviting, and then the door on the side opens and he’s all like, “Was thinking you’d forgotten about me, blondie.”

 

Raleigh lets himself be steered into the back room in a daze. Still can’t believe he’s actually freaking doing this, why is he doing this again?

 

The hooker’s in front of him, arms folded. “Well? Show me the proof.”

 

Raleigh hands over his test results. And hopes there’s nothing gross on it, because he couldn’t exactly understand everything on it.

 

The hooker gives him a big, satisfied smile. He moves in close to Raleigh, takes off his coat again. Then starts to work at his tie.

 

“Er, um…” Raleigh stammers, as the hooker undoes his tie and starts working on the buttons of his dress shirt.

 

The guy cocks an eyebrow at Raleigh. “What, you gettin’ embarrassed? I know you got amazing abs under there, I saw a bit of ‘em last time. C’mon.” The hooker’s hands dig under his shirt and his touch is like fire, setting Raleigh aflame, and he stumbles back into the wall of the small room. The red lights don’t hide the hooker’s eyes, large and dark with desire.

 

“Isn’t… isn’t this like your job,” Raleigh stutters.

 

The hooker scrapes his nails down Raleigh’s side, and he gasps. “What’re ya sayin’? I can’t have a little fun?” the hooker shoots back. “Not often I have a lekker ding like you on my bench, mate.”

 

“What the hell is a leckering?” Raleigh mumbles.

 

The hooker leans forward. And nips his goddamn ear. “‘s Dutch for, you’re a real hot piece of ass,” he whispers.

 

Raleigh groans. The hooker’s voice seeps into his ears, travels down his spine and goes straight to his dick. He’s beginning to think this guy has some kind of magical power the way he gets turned on by his smallest gesture, breath on his ear, hands on his skin…

 

The hooker’s worked his way down Raleigh’s shirt and flips it open and lets out another whistle of appreciation before getting his hands all over Raleigh’s abs. “Fuck,” the hooker breathes. “You a model or something?”

 

“I work in construction,” Raleigh answers.

 

The hooker laughs. “Nice. I gotta work out every day for this,” he says, running his hands over his own toned chest, and then he’s grabbed Raleigh’s hand and runs it over his abdomen. Raleigh bites his lip, can’t resist, tangles his fingers in those soft curls on the hooker’s chest. And now, that was a moan, he’s pretty damn sure the hooker moaned. What the fuck they’re doing here, he doesn’t have a clue, but doesn't want to stop.

 

“Hey, what’s your name again?” the hooker says, scraping his teeth across Raleigh’s jaw.

 

“Didn’t tell you before,” Raleigh pants, suppressing another groan. “It’s... Raleigh.”

 

“Rahhhhleee,” the hooker says, and it comes out almost like a growl, and he’s pronouncing half of it wrong, but Raleigh doesn’t mind, if the pronunciation is gonna sound like that rolling off the guy's lips.

 

“What’s  _your_  name?” he shoots back.

 

The hooker smiles. “It’s Chuck.”

 

And with that, the hooker named Chuck pushes Raleigh back into the wall, drops to his knees and begins to work on Raleigh’s slacks like he’s gonna starve if he doesn’t get Raleigh’s dick in his mouth soon.

 

“There you are, big boy,” Chuck purrs, palming Raleigh’s cock through his boxers. Raleigh’s already rock hard, leaking drops of precum at the tip, and Chuck's touch makes him whimper embarrassingly loud.

 

Chuck sticks out his tongue, licks Raleigh’s dick through the fabric. And then hooks his hands under Raleigh’s underwear and slacks and pulls them right down to his knees. And Raleigh’s feeling a lot more naked, halfway in a state of undress, but before he can get really worried about it Chuck’s swallowing his dick again.

 

“God, oh  _god_ … feels so good,” Raleigh groans, his hands wandering into Chuck’s hair, carefully, just in case it’s not okay, but the touch gets him a hum from Chuck around his cock, the vibration sending another wave of pleasure through him.

 

Chuck’s mouth is working him, all lips and tongue, and so, so wet. Feels so much better without a condom, and Raleigh’s mind is shorting out, fuck, no woman ever made him feel like this. Like Chuck is absolutely worshiping every inch of his dick. And Chuck’s hands are rubbing his thighs, his ass, and then—  _then_  the fucker pulls off for a second to slick up a finger and slides it between Raleigh’s ass cheeks, circling his asshole.

 

Raleigh thinks he’s gonna cry, it feels _that_  good when Chuck slips in one finger, and it hurts a little but it hurts  _so good_  and his hands are digging into the hooker’s scalp and he can’t hold back anymore, begins to slide into Chuck’s mouth with needy thrusts, and Chuck lets him. Braces himself, jaw going slack as Raleigh pushes into his throat. It doesn't take much longer 'till Raleigh is there, bending forward, coming so hard he thinks he’s gonna pass out, and Chuck pulls off, wraps his hand around the base and pumps him through it, pulse after pulse spilling down Chuck’s hand.

 

Raleigh slumps against the wall, slides down, because his legs can’t freaking keep him up anymore. Chuck grins at him, and licks at his finger before wiping the rest of the come off on a towel.

 

"Mmmm," Chuck hums. "Tasty. You a vegetarian, Ray?"

 

Raleigh turns bright fucking red. Because he is. "You can _taste_  that?!"

 

Chuck laughs. “Yeah, mate. You're acting like you've never tasted come before."

 

"I haven’t," Raleigh blurts out. He really needs to learn to shut up.

 

Chuck stares at him in disbelief. Then laughs. “Should try it sometime," Chuck says. Tosses Raleigh the towel to wipe himself clean. "So what's your deal? Everyone else thinks you're a nice straight boy?"

 

Chuck’s smalltalk is starting to annoy Raleigh, because he feels like the hooker’s judging him, mocking him for being inexperienced. "Whatever," Raleigh sighs, stumbling all over to get his clothes back on, and then takes a fifty out of his wallet. Ignores how Chuck looks like he's pretty freaking hard inside his little thong, because he's not sure what it means or what to do about it. Raleigh’s starting to feel more uncomfortable by the second.

 

The hooker pouts a little, rolls his eyes, and accepts the yellow-orange bill from Raleigh. “Fine, mate,” Chuck says, and his voice has that low growl to it that makes Raleigh shiver. “See ya around.” And with his pants barely back on, Chuck shoves Raleigh outside rather unceremoniously.

 

Outside, Raleigh has to steady himself, leans against the wall with his forehead. Because what the hell was he thinking, right? Chuck’s a hooker, he probably gets that charming with all his johns. Yeah. This was a bad idea from the start. This weekend, he’ll go to that gay bar. Maybe hook up with someone without having to pay them after. Goddammit, now that he’s thinking like this, he’s starting to feel pretty pathetic. He’s a hot, young, attractive guy, the hell is he paying a hooker for?

 

Raleigh straightens his shoulders and walks away from Chuck’s window, trying very hard not to glance over his shoulder to see if maybe, Chuck is looking back.

 

 

One week later, and he can’t get Chuck out of his freaking head. Raleigh’s been  _dreaming_  about him, and it’s driving him mad. He wakes up in the morning painfully hard, then jerks off thinking about Chuck’s lips wrapped around his dick, and he feels absolutely miserable. Made a very pitiful attempt at flirting with a guy at the bar and went home feeling like total loser. Why is this dating thing so freaking difficult? He’s never really done this, him and Mako were high school sweethearts, and he’s never had to go out and find someone, make interesting conversation, be all flirty.

 

“You’re falling for the hooker,” Yancy tells him with a big grin plastered all over his face on webcam.

 

“I’m not falling for the hooker,” Raleigh replies.

 

“You are.”

 

“Shut up. I’m disconnecting.”

 

He’s  _not_  falling for Chuck. He really, really isn’t. Because that’s ridiculous. And a stupid thing to do.

 

Raleigh doesn’t recognize him with his clothes on, at first. But he’s sure it’s Chuck, walking down the  _Kalverstraat_ , dressed in a dark green hoodie with some logo on it—a bulldog with a rocket in its mouth? Maybe some local sports team—and a brown messenger bag slung over his shoulder. Brown boots with some kind of metal detailing. Green beanie. And Raleigh has no idea how he managed to remember all that from barely a glance. And before he can consider if it’s even a good idea, he’s turned around and walks towards Chuck in big, brisk steps.

 

“Chuck?”

 

Chuck stops and turns around. Narrows his eyes. “Rawley?”

 

Still pronouncing his name in a weird way. A weird way that is totally hot, dammit.

 

So there they are. In the middle of the crowded shopping street. And Raleigh doesn’t know what to say. Hey, thanks for the blowjobs? You look good with clothes on too?

 

Chuck saunters up to him. “Hey,” he simply says, and furrows his brow. “Look… you’re hot and all, but I try not to talk to… clients, outside of my job, yeah?”

 

“Uh, okay,” Raleigh stammers. Rubs his forehead. Figures it’s worth a shot, anyway. “Look, are you… do you… want to go grab a coffee or something?”

 

Chuck pulls out his phone, checks the time. And Raleigh can see he’s trying to decide whether to do this or not. Finally, Chuck sighs. “Yeah, all right.”

 

At the coffee house, Raleigh hoped things would be less awkward. And they are so not. Chuck keeps glancing out the window, Raleigh can’t stop staring at the man’s lips, and is now convinced he’s been super creepy.

 

“So, you… uh… what do you do during the day?” Fuck, that doesn’t make him sound any less like a stalker.

 

Chuck meets his eyes for a second, then looks away again. “‘m a student.”

 

“Oh.” Christ, why was this so much easier when Chuck’s clothes were off.

 

“W-what do you study?” Raleigh ventures. That’s a useful question, right?

 

Chuck looks back, raises an eyebrow. “Psychology.”

 

Raleigh laughs nervously before he can stop himself. A hooker who studies psychology… “Must come in handy.”

 

There it is. He has certifiably made a total fool of himself, and now Chuck probably thinks he’s an asshole. Fuck.

 

Chuck’s lips form into a thin line, and he leans over the table, glaring at Raleigh. “Look mate… whaddaya want? I ain’t giving it away for free. And I got somewhere to be soon, so spit it out.”

 

This Chuck isn’t anything like the sultry man he’s met in the window before. This one’s a grumpy, inattentive jerk. Raleigh sits back. So much for the fantasy, huh.

 

“It’s… never mind,” he says, disappointed. “Guess I was mistaken.”

 

Chuck gets up off his seat, leaves Raleigh the change for the coffee. “Well, Raylee. See you around.” And he takes off.

 

Raleigh sinks his face into his hands on the table. That was the worst display of social skills, ever. Absolutely pathetic. He’s not even going to tell Yance about this, it’s too mortifying. Geez.

 

But the chance encounter only makes his infatuation worse, and pretty sure he’s thinking about Chuck, like, all the time now, a tight, coiling feeling in his chest, and he can’t really eat or drink or sleep anymore.

 

“Yance,” he says on voice chat, watching his brother’s concerned face. “Think I’ve fallen for the hooker.”

 

“I knew it,” his older brother replies, shaking his head. “You’re hopeless.”

 

“What the hell do I do, man?”

 

“Ask him out for a proper date, maybe? One that doesn’t involve him sucking you off for money.”

 

“How do I do that,” Raleigh mumbles, hands in his hair.

 

“Just  _ask_  him, dumbass.”

 

Raleigh really wishes Yancy was there with him. He could use a wingman.

 

He goes home from the office late at night. The trams are still running, but it’s a clear, warm night in late April, and he decides to walk to his apartment. Takes a bit of a roundabout route that entirely coincidentally, on purpose, leads him to de Wallen again. And maybe that one particular window. He can’t help it. From the corner, he already spots Chuck’s silhouette, all broad shoulders and narrow hips, back-lit with the usual red fluorescent lights. And he’s nervous. So freaking nervous he feels like he’s going to trip and fall in the gracht, and maybe he’s forgotten how to breathe normally.

 

But he wants to, needs to, see Chuck again.

 

Chuck notices him long before he’s arrived at the window. Raleigh figures the hooker will probably flip him off, close the curtains, whatever.

 

But Chuck opens the side door. “Come in,” he says.

 

And Raleigh does.

 

Like in a dream, Chuck leads him to the back room again, starts to undress Raleigh, like he’s here for the usual. And it feels so good to have Chuck’s hands on him, Raleigh is a little dazed, lets the hooker do his thing until Chuck’s hands are working his zipper again. “Wait, wait,” Raleigh says.

 

“What? This is what you want, ain’t it?” Chuck grumbles.

 

“Yes, but, no,” Raleigh babbles. Grabs Chuck’s wrists. “Just… stop for a sec.”

 

Chuck swats away Raleigh’s hand. “If you’re not here for a blow or a fuck, then get out,” he mutters.

 

“It’s not like that!” Raleigh exclaims, and grabs Chuck’s hands again, pushes him against the wall.

 

Chuck’s dark glare shoots right through him. “Let. Me. Go,” he growls, but not in a sexy way. “I’m not one of those hookers you can slap around, mate. I hit back.”

 

Raleigh sighs, lets go of Chuck. “Fuck, just… I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“Sorry for wasting my time, yeah?” Chuck snarls. “Leave already.”

 

Raleigh clenches his fist. If it’s not now, then it’s never. He can’t come back here without being a total stalker.

 

“Doyouwanttogoutwithme?” Raleigh says in one breath, turning deep red and staring at his shoes.

 

“Whassat?” Chuck says, folding his arms in front of his chest.

 

“I said, er, do you… want to go out some time. With me, I mean…” Raleigh says, pretty sure he’s going to faint.

 

“I don’t do dates,” Chuck bites at him. “Do I look like fucking Julia Roberts, mate?”

 

That’s too much, seriously. How thick is this guy? Maybe it’s an Australian thing. Now Raleigh’s just getting pissed off. “Dammit, I mean a real date, not, like, paying you for it!”

 

Oh god, fuck, he said it, oh shit. Fuck, fuck, he’s going to be shot down so hard he’s going to die, and Chuck is looking at him like he has two heads.

 

“You’re serious,” Chuck says, kind of baffled.

 

“Yeah, I am!” Raleigh shoots back.

 

Chuck sighs and sits down on the bench. “Look.. ‘s nice and all, but you’re letting a few blowjobs get to your head, yeah? You don’t wanna date me.”

 

Raleigh frowns. “Why not?”

 

Chuck glares at him. “D’ya even know how much cock I’ve had in my mouth, Ray?  Wanna know how many guys have fucked me? Too bad, ‘cause I’ve lost count. So don’t think you’re all special.”

 

“I don’t care,” Raleigh shoots back. And then he does something ridiculous, which he definitely wouldn’t do if he was thinking clearly. But he’s not thinking clearly. Just being this near to Chuck is making him feel dizzy, hot, nauseous. And he wants to touch Chuck so badly it’s making his chest hurt.

 

So he steps forward. Leans down. Cups Chuck’s face, and kisses him.

 

Chuck angles into the kiss—for just a second. And then he pushes Raleigh away. “The hell are you doin’?”

 

But his face is all sorts of flushed and embarrassed.

 

“Chuck…” Raleigh starts, but Chuck is just glaring at him now, angry and hot, blushing and shaking.

 

“Get. out.” he says, trying to hide the tremor in his voice, and failing.

 

Raleigh makes a puppy face. The one that Mako could never resist, when he messed something up.

 

It doesn’t work. Chuck looks about ready to explode, and this is Chuck’s space, and he doesn’t want to be any more a creepy stalker than he’s already being. So Raleigh leaves.

 

He’s a grown-ass man, so he’s definitely not going to cry himself to sleep. Instead, he gets drunk, sends random hot guys barely readable text messages on Grindr and watches porn until he can’t possibly feel any worse.

 

Why the everlasting fuck did he have to go and fall in love with a hooker.

 

 

 

“Hansen! Hey! Opletten, man!”

 

Chuck blearily looks up from his lecture desk, upon which he’d fallen asleep, kind of. Maybe nodding off. Taking a power nap.

 

Stares into the face of Aleksis—or Alex, as they all refer to the giant Russian dude with the bleached hair and dark beard. At some point they had tried to call Chuck, well, Chuck, but it quickly got turned into  _Suck_  and then he was like, call me Hansen, for fuck’s sake. And Hans is one of the most common first names in the Netherlands. So now everyone thinks he’s Dutch, which is just great. He’s lived in this weird little country for three years, so his Dutch isn’t that terrible anymore, but he definitely can’t keep track when someone starts rattling off to him because they think he’s a native speaker.

 

And he’s really not paying attention to his statistics class, now. It’s not the kind of statistics he’s interested in here. Like what’s the average amount of golden curly hairs in a young blonde American male’s pubes. What’s the average American male’s minimum refraction time. That sort of thing.

 

Fuck, why’d he have to go and fall for a client, of all the possible men in the world? This one just came crashing into his life, right from the streets, like a giant sexy wayward puppy, all big eyes and smiles…

 

And he actually told Chuck he wants to go on a date? Yeah, right. Chuck vividly remembers how things went down between him and Jin, and that shit is still fucking raw. The disgust on his ex’ face when Chuck told him about his job… and consequently dropped him like a sack of dog shit. He lost half of his friends over that.

 

Fuck ‘em, right, because why would he need hypocrites like that in his life? He  _likes_  his job, stupidly enough. It’s a great way to make money. He’s not neck-deep in student loans this way, and all the crap that comes with being an immigrant is easier to take care of when he has a comfortably-filled bank account. And yeah, sometimes he has a real creeptastic or gross client, but you just kind of … suck it up. Literally. He never felt ashamed about being a hooker, a prostitute… until Jin called him a filthy, lying whore and threw him out.

 

He’s really trying very hard not to be a total fucking mess since then.

 

And then along comes fucking  _Raahhhleigh_ with his stupid pretty face and amazing abs and huge dick and delicious semen and…

 

He can’t. Doesn’t want Raleigh’s big blue eyes to look at him the same way, when it finally sinks in that Chuck isn’t as charming and wonderful as he’s imagining him to be. Doesn’t wanna tell Raleigh that he’s not going to up and quit his job for love, that Raleigh can’t own him.

 

Raleigh doesn’t have a whole lot of experience, Chuck can tell; and maybe the guy’s kind of stuck on how exciting it is to go to a hooker, like it’s some kind of fantasy for him. And he’ll wake up from it, eventually. Realize that Chuck is just another used whore, not worthy of his devotion.

 

He’s not gonna give Raleigh the chance to stomp all over his heart.

 

Chuck sighs, slumps over his desk and buries his face in his arms.

 

“Meneer Hansen. Misschien wilt u thuis verder slapen?” the prof snarks at him. Ugh. Better pour in some extra caffeine during break. It’s not like he’s sleeping right at all anymore, with that idiot’s beautiful visage chasing him even when he closes his eyes.

 

Why the fuck did he have to go and fall for a client.

 

 

 

 

Yes, this is good, Raleigh decides. He’s got a pleasant buzz in his veins and in his head, courtesy of a considerable amount of Dutch beer, which is a lot higher quality than the stuff he’s used to. He’s at this place called Café Rouge, surrounded by gay men of all ages, and it’s kind of homely. _Gezellig_ , the Dutch would call it. These guys, Asian triplets whose names he didn’t really catch and can’t tell apart anyway, they’re the same age as him—late 20s—have kind of adopted him and are buying him drinks and cracking jokes about cultural differences. Raleigh’s feeling more happy and alive than he has in ages. And yet.

 

Chuck isn’t here, and he wants Chuck.

 

“Hey, Rally?” The triplets manage to mangle his name even more than the hooker does. “We are going to a club soon, you want to come with us?”

 

Raleigh shrugs. “Sure, what kind of club is it?”

 

“Club Church,” one of the guys replies. Raleigh thinks it’s the one who introduced himself as Hu.

 

“A church!?” Surely the Dutch aren’t  _that_  liberal.

 

The guys laugh. “No, it’s not a church!” “That’s the name of the street.” “It’s nearby, a ten minutes walk.” It’s eerie how they’re speaking like they’re one person, but Raleigh remembers the way he and Yancy are sometimes and maybe it’s not _that_  weird when you’re triplets.

 

It’s more like a fifteen minute walk, but they eventually arrive at the club. A black door that leads to another black door that leads to a curtain, with the music getting progressively louder as they step past each barrier. One of the guys—Jin maybe—is pulling off his own shirt. His brothers soon follow. Then the other triplet - Cheung? - starts tugging Raleigh’s sweater up.

 

“Whoa, whoa,” Raleigh stammers, but they’re giving him encouraging smiles. And whistles, when Cheung uncovers his abs.

 

“You look good,” Hu says, grinning. Raleigh smiles awkwardly. He does look good, but he’s never shown it off like this. He’s kind of excited and nervous at the same time, and lets Cheung pull off the rest of his sweater. Jin takes the pile of clothing and stuffs it into a bag, which he proceeds to take to the wardrobe area. And then Hu and Cheung drag Raleigh inside.

 

And they probably should’ve specified this was a cruise club.

 

There’s nearly-naked men everywhere. There’s gogo boys up in cages, dancing, with nothing more than tight jockstraps on. Once his eyes get used to the darkness, he’s pretty sure there’s men making out, men grinding their dicks together, men jerking each other off, and holy shit, there’s a few guys on their knees and—

 

There’s Chuck.

 

They spot each other at the same time. The hooker is hanging leisurely on the bar, wearing little more than a dark green jockstrap, talking to a big hairy bear of a guy, when his eyes flit to the club’s newcomers and rest on Raleigh. Looks surprised. And then his gaze drifts towards Jin, and Chuck gets a panicked look in his eyes. Next to him, Raleigh hears Jin say something in Dutch.

 

And he doesn’t hear much else, because now he’s shoving Jin into the nearest wall, with his hand closed around Jin’s throat. “You take that back,” he hisses. He doesn’t know a whole lot of Dutch. But he knows what  _hoer_  means, because it sounds very fucking similar to its English equivalent, _whore_.

 

“What, you know him?” Jin growls. All the friendliness has vanished from his face, making way for contempt. “Don’t let him fool you, Rally. He’s cute, but half the city’s cocks have been inside his ass.”

 

Raleigh raises his fist, prepares to turn Jin’s face something bloody, but then Chuck’s wrist closes around his and blocks the swing of Raleigh’s arm. “Stop it,” Chuck hisses.

 

Jin glares at Chuck, nothing but disgust and hate. “Shouldn’t you be sucking cock somewhere, Chuck? It’s the only thing you’re good at.”

 

Raleigh is practically vibrating with the effort it takes to keep his rage in check. Because he would like to be smashing Jin’s face into the sticky floor right about now.

 

Chuck’s big, teary eyes are imploring him to stay calm, though. And he can’t resist that look.

 

“Apologize to him,” Raleigh growls.

 

“Fuck you,” Jin replies, and flips Raleigh off. “Hope he gives you the drips.” Spins around, storms out of the club, with his brothers following him quickly after. A few seconds later, Cheung runs back in, gets their clothes from the wardrobe and dumps Raleigh’s sweater on the floor.

 

Raleigh is very aware of Chuck’s presence near him, and it doesn’t slip past his attention that Chuck visibly relaxes as soon as the triplets leave. He goes to pick up his sweater, clutching it in his hands, and then turns to Chuck.

 

“You okay?”

 

Chuck’s eyes meet his, and Raleigh can see he’s still upset, like he’s gonna cry any second.

 

“Er… do you want to go?” Raleigh suggests, because he can’t imagine the cruise club being the best place for a breakdown.

 

Chuck shivers. “No. But… you should.”

 

Raleigh frowns. “So Jin can come back and harass you? I don’t think so.” He puts a hand on Chuck’s shoulder.

 

And it promptly gets slapped off by Chuck, who’s pissed off at  _Raleigh_  now for some godforsaken reason. “I don’t need your protection or misplaced chivalry,” the hooker growls.

 

“What the hell is your problem?” Raleigh says. He’s getting pretty fed up with Chuck’s dramatics, no matter how sexy or pretty the hooker is.

 

“Maybe it’s guys like you and Jin! Thinking you can follow me everywhere, thinking you can own me,” Chuck blurts out, his hands clenched into fists, glaring at Raleigh all flushed and angry and like he’s gonna burst into tears.

 

He brings his face closer to Raleigh’s. “Here’s the thing,  _Raahhhleigh._ This is the kinda place where guys come to fuck guys,” Chuck hisses. “Ain’t no place for a  _virgin_ _._ ”

 

Raleigh’s face flushes, but it’s not because of shame. Chuck doesn’t know jack shit about him, he realizes; and he really doesn’t know much about Chuck, beside him being a sexy hooker, a grumpy student and having some sort of mood disorder, apparently. ‘Cause Raleigh and Mako tried plenty of things before they finally figured out that Raleigh doesn’t so much have an anal fetish as he is just a big fat homo.

 

“What kinda virgin do you think I am?” Raleigh shoots back, meeting Chuck’s glare.

 

Chuck laughs, but the sound of it is like dragging a rake through shards of glass, it’s that cheerful. He lifts a hand to Raleigh’s chest, and flicks against it with his thumb and middle finger. “I think you’ve never had a real big dick up your arse, Ray,” he says, low and threatening. “And I’m here to get mine, so why don’t you piss off.”

 

Chuck has the filthiest mouth of anyone he’s ever met, Raleigh thinks. And he hates how it somehow makes the hooker  _more_  appealing. Christ, he is so gone for this guy.

 

“Fine,” Raleigh bites, and pulls his sweater back on. “Have a great time.” And leaves.

 

He has one foot out the door, the cold air of night hitting him in the face, when he feels a hand on his shoulder and glances back.

 

“Come see me tomorrow night,” Chuck says. Glaring, blushing, lip trembling, fingers digging into the fabric of Raleigh’s sweater. Then he lets go and disappears back inside.

 

Talk about fucking mixed signals, right?

 

 

 

 

When Raleigh drags himself back to Chuck’s window, the curtains are closed. What does that mean? Is Chuck in there with a john? Raleigh steps a bit closer, into the small porch, and knocks on the door.

 

Nothing happens.

 

But he decides to wait, because he’s a freaking idiot, and Chuck said tomorrow night and tomorrow is today and it is night and he is going to see Chuck again or die of hunger and thirst on the cobbled sidewalks of Amsterdam.

 

Thankfully, he’s not that hungry or thirsty yet when ten minutes later, the side door opens and a big, weird-looking guy with gold-plated shoes walks out. Raleigh shivers. That guy was in there with Chuck, wasn’t he? Doing… god knows.

 

And then Chuck’s face pops out. “Come in,” he says, glaring at Raleigh already. And wiping his mouth, fuck.

 

Raleigh follows him inside, to the back room again. “Wait here,” Chuck says, and vanishes. Comes back a few minutes later. Wearing normal people casual clothes and breath so fresh and minty Raleigh can smell it across the room. Well.

 

Raleigh really has no idea what’s going on anymore. But Chuck asked him to be here, so he’s gonna leave it up to the hooker. So far, everything Raleigh’s tried to do or say has only pissed the guy off, so he’ll let Chuck take the lead.

 

And Chuck… Chuck climbs onto his lap. Wraps his arms around Raleigh. Rests his head on his shoulder.

 

Raleigh tentatively hugs Chuck back, not sure what else to do. This is nice, it’s warm, it’s comfortable. Chuck’s scent is all around him, a musky, spicy sort of smell coming from the man’s own clothes, different and so much better than the strong aftershave he wore as a hooker and at the club. Raleigh takes a deep breath, wanting to memorize this scent as deeply as he can. And it takes a lot of self-control to not tighten his grip around Chuck, to pull him in even closer, to huff that smell off his skin, taste the minty flavor of toothpaste on his lips.

 

“‘m sorry about last night,” Chuck says after a while.

 

“It’s okay,” Raleigh mumbles. And hopes to god that’s the right thing to say and that he isn’t going to be out on his ass in the cold in like three seconds.

 

“No, it’s not,” Chuck says. And clings tighter to Raleigh.

 

“You’re being really weird, you know,” Raleigh sighs.

 

Chuck sits back a little, his eyes meeting Raleigh’s. Frowns. “Look, I’m not gonna stop hooking,” he says.

 

“I never said you should,” Raleigh replies. He feels like they somehow skipped half a conversation, and yet, he knows exactly what Chuck means.

 

“And I’m not gonna stop fucking other guys,” Chuck adds, his frown even deeper, jutting his jaw out like he’s daring Raleigh to disagree.

 

“As long as you use protection,” Raleigh replies. He’s hearing the unspoken invitation in Chuck’s words, the hidden deal behind all these conditions he’s agreeing to. And maybe this is messed up, and it’s never gonna work, and Chuck is clearly some kind of nymphomanic man slut of epic proportions. Raleigh doesn’t care. Or he cares, but he doesn’t mind. Something like that. Chuck is Chuck, and he’s not going to change. Raleigh gets the message.

 

“I always do,” Chuck says. He’s still glaring at Raleigh.

 

Raleigh slides his hands further down, until the tips of his fingers rest lightly on Chuck’s ass. And he grins. “Well?”

 

Chuck scrunches up his nose. “Yeah.”

 

And kisses Raleigh.

 

Chuck’s minty-fresh taste overwhelms him, soft, wet lips parting, and Chuck’s  _tongue_ , Christ. Raleigh’s being kissed like Chuck is trying to fuck him with his mouth, which sounds kind of gross but it’s really ridiculously hot and wet, all lips and tongue and breaths and moans. And this, this Raleigh knows, and he slides his hands up, tangles them in Chuck’s hair and angles his face so Raleigh can get even deeper into Chuck’s mouth, tracing Chuck’s tongue with his own, slow and insistent. Let me in, he’s asking, let me taste all of you. And Chuck does. Chuck’s entire body folds into Raleigh’s, arms and legs tightening around him, and—oh, Chuck is hard, getting harder by the second.

 

And Raleigh’s never quite felt that before, the hot, thick press of another man’s erection against him, and it’s doing things to him, a whole new heat seeping down his spine. He brings his hands down to Chuck’s ass again, grabs it, and pulls Chuck’s groin tight against his own. Feels his own hard-on press against Chuck’s thighs.

 

Chuck groans into their kiss and then laughs, rolling his hips against Raleigh. He breaks the kiss to lick across Raleigh’s jaw, pressing wet kisses on his neck, and Chuck’s hands are starting to wander down Raleigh’s back, hitching up his sweater to get at the skin underneath.

 

Raleigh really can’t get over the feel of Chuck’s dick against him. He remembers Chuck’s words from the night before, and just like that, he knows he wants it.

 

“Chuck,” he gasps, and then “Hngh,” because Chuck scraped his nails down Raleigh’s back.

 

“What is it?” Chuck says, in between sucking on the skin on Raleigh’s shoulder.

 

“Want to… “ Raleigh breathes, and he can’t really form the words for it, so he lets his hand do the talking. Slides over Chuck’s thigh and then has his fingers sort of  _hover_  there because he’s not sure about just grabbing it like that.

 

Chuck grins, grabs a hold of Raleigh’s hand and firmly pushes it onto his stiff dick.

 

“Want this?” Chuck says, grinding himself against Raleigh’s hand.

 

“Y-yeah,” Raleigh mumbles, and then Chuck guides his hand again, into his slacks, into his underwear, and Raleigh gasps when Chuck folds Raleigh’s fingers around Chuck’s cock.

 

“Like that,” Chuck pants, moving Raleigh’s hand up and down.

 

Raleigh grunts, follows Chuck’s directions, and it’s kind of amazing to feel another man’s dick in his hand like that. Warm, thick, throbbing… and Chuck is—well, Raleigh doesn’t really have a base of comparison except himself, so he thinks Chuck is smaller than him but that’s still bigger than average if he’s to believe any of his former partners.

 

Chuck’s kind of bucking up into his hand now, groaning, and it’s dry and Raleigh knows  _he_  doesn’t like it dry so his grip slides up to the top, hoping there’s enough precum to slick it up a little. Chuck whimpers when Raleigh’s hand closes around the tip.

 

“Raleigh,” he breathes, and wow, isn’t that the first time Chuck pronounces his name correctly?

 

“Let’s… let’s go someplace else,” Chuck says, and he slides off.

 

Raleigh nearly whimpers when the warmth of Chuck’s body leaves his lap, and shivers. “Where?”

 

Chuck smiles. “My place.”

 

Raleigh is pretty sure his chest like, explodes with butterflies and rainbows and everything. He grabs Chuck’s hand and laughs. “Sounds good.”

 

 

So they have to take a tram to where Chuck lives and Raleigh feels extremely silly and amazing, the way they’re squeezing together on the small bench, kind of trying to hide their excitement from the other passengers whilst Chuck’s hand is sliding up Raleigh’s thigh and Raleigh’s hand is crawling up Chuck’s back. He feels like a giggly, lovestruck teenager, and it’s great.

 

They don’t even make it to the front door of Chuck’s flat. Instead, they’re scrambling in the hallway of the building to get their clothes off, stumbling up the logic-defying stairs, skipping the last three steps and just falling onto the floor, Chuck on top of Raleigh.

 

“Fuck, you’re so sexy,” Raleigh breathes as Chuck gropes and licks his chest and shoulders, and this time he isn’t hesitant, just stuffs his hand down Chuck’s underwear again and gets as much of Chuck’s cock in his hand as he can.

 

“Mmmm,” Chuck moans, jerking into Raleigh’s grip again. “You like my dick, don’t you?” He laughs, lowers himself to Raleigh’s ear. “First dick you ever touched, yeah?

 

“So?” Raleigh grumbles, because he can’t really deny it and he doesn’t care.

 

Chuck laughs again, and frees himself from Raleigh’s grip, then stands up and leans against the wall.

 

“You want it, come and get it,” Chuck says.

 

Raleigh rolls on his stomach and then sits up. Chuck’s pushed his slacks and boxers down to his knees, and is holding his dick in his hands, lazily stroking it.

 

Raleigh licks his lips. Yeah, he wants to.

 

He crawls up to Chuck, kneeling in front of him, and looks up, all kinds of eager and turned on.

 

Chuck runs a hand into Raleigh’s hair. “C’mere,” he says, and his tone of voice is kind of commanding, and Raleigh  _likes_  that. He shuffles closer and kind of snaps his lips at Chuck’s dick like a fish out of the water, feels saliva build up in his mouth because he would really, really like to taste what’s in front of him.

 

“Lick the tip,” Chuck says, and he groans when Raleigh does. Raleigh shudders when the slick drops of precum spill onto his tongue, hot and salty, and then honestly licks the head of Chuck’s cock, first up and down, then in small circles.

 

Chuck is shivering, and puts a little pressure on Raleigh’s head. Raleigh gets the hint and smiles, parts his lips, and slowly, carefully, takes Chuck’s dick into his mouth.

 

It feels  _amazing_. Raleigh didn’t really have any doubts about his sexual orientation anymore, but this helps. Having another man’s cock in his mouth like this, he’s pretty fucking sure he’s gay.

 

He bobs his head up and down a little, circles his tongue around it, and looks up at Chuck, questioning.

 

“Yeah, you’re doing good,” Chuck moans, carding his hands through Raleigh’s hair. “You like the taste of my cock, Ray?”

 

Raleigh nods with Chuck’s dick still between his lips, and it makes Chuck laugh. He pulls off for a second. “Is this working for you?” he asks, kind of blushing a lot. Chuck’s a lot better at this whole dirty talk thing.

 

Chuck smiles. “Don’t worry ‘bout that, baby,” he replies. “You just take as much dick as you want.”

 

Pretty sure that encouragement set every bone in his body on fire, Raleigh sucks Chuck’s dick back into his mouth and just… does what he wants. Sucks it hard, sucks it soft, runs his lips and tongue along the length, his cheeks, his nose. Raleigh tries to get as much of it as he can into his mouth, gags, tries again, actually kind of loves the feeling of choking on dick, and keeps going until he’s sure the taste and smell of Chuck’s cock is rubbed so much into his face it’s never going away.

 

Chuck is alternately laughing and moaning, depending on how much he’s loving what Raleigh is doing, and Raleigh can’t help but definitely want to bring more moans out of Chuck.

 

“How ‘bout you go a little lower?” Chuck says, and pushes Raleigh’s head down a bit whilst his other hand slides down to his dick and cups his balls in the palm of his hand.

 

Raleigh looks up, hesitates a little, and then leans forward and laps his tongue over Chuck’s balls.

 

And those taste… weird. Wrinkly, warm, round. Raleigh nudges his tongue against them with more force and feels them roll and move. He inches a bit closer, presses his lips on the sack and softly sucks an orb into his mouth.

 

“Fuck, Raleigh…” Chuck hisses, and by that, Raleigh knows he’s doing well.

 

He lets off again, looks up at Chuck. “I want to… how do I… make you come?” he says, still freaking blushing even though he’s just had one of Chuck’s balls in his mouth. Doing things comes easier to him than talking, or something.

 

Chuck smiles. Strokes Raleigh’s cheek, runs his thumb over Raleigh’s bottom lip.

 

“Remember what I did last time?” Chuck breathes.

 

Raleigh thinks back. Chuck was sucking his dick, and then he—ah. Right.

 

Raleigh sucks his finger into his mouth, and meets Chuck’s eyes. “That’s right, babe,” Chuck says, and he kicks his slacks down to his ankles so he can widen his stance.

 

Raleigh’s hand slides up Chuck’s thigh and then he traces a finger further back until he feels the tip of his digit nudge against Chuck’s asshole.

 

Chuck whimpers. “Yeah, there you go…”

 

And Raleigh takes Chuck’s dick back into his mouth, remembering which moves made Chuck keen, and does them all. His tongue pressing down on the slit, sucking hard, and when Chuck’s moans become louder Raleigh pushes his finger slowly inside.

 

“Yeah, oh fuck, Raleigh, jesus… you’re a fucking natural…” Chuck’s got one hand tangled in Raleigh’s hair, pulling harder at the locks as his other hand is clenching down on Raleigh’s shoulder, nails leaving red marks on the skin.

 

Raleigh can feel Chuck starting, it’s kind of amazing, quick little jerks of Chuck’s hips and then a spasm running through Chuck’s cock followed by the thick, bitter taste of Chuck’s come filling his mouth.

 

It’s a bit too late to consider if he’s going to swallow or not.

 

“Raleigh… fuck...” Chuck groans, his grip on Raleigh’s hair tightening, and Raleigh experimentally wriggles his finger a little and feels another pulse of Chuck’s come flow onto his tongue. Geez, it tastes so fucking good, Raleigh has no idea what’s happening to him anymore. Only that he’s so hard himself, so much it hurts, so much like he feels he’s almost coming. He’s got a hand on his crotch, pressing hard, wanting that release so badly even as the last of Chuck’s come drips into his mouth.

 

Chuck sags back against the wall as Raleigh pulls off, and laughs some more. Then notices Raleigh’s need, and he’s down on his knees, pushing Raleigh down on his back.

 

“Raleigh,” Chuck breathes. “I can’t wait.”

 

“Can’t wait for what?” Raleigh says, even as he lets Chuck undo his jeans and pull them off along with his boxers.

 

“Want your cock inside me, yeah?” Chuck says, sliding his hand over Raleigh’s dick. “You want to? Can I?” He’s already removed his own shoes and slacks.

 

“What… here?” Raleigh says. It’s ridiculous and insanely hot, they’re both half clothed, lying on the hard wooden floor of the first floor of some house in Amsterdam, and anyone with a key could come in and see them fuck—

 

 _See. them. fuck_ _._ They could. Like, right here. They could do it, he’s so hard and Chuck is—Chuck is loose because he’s a hooker and they don’t need—they’re clean and—oh, wait...

 

“Lube?” Raleigh manages to say, in the two seconds that his brain gets back from being a mush of desire and need. But once his eyes get some focus back, he sees Chuck’s got a small tube in his hand. Probably carries that with him everywhere, doesn’t he? Raleigh laughs.

 

Chuck grins, and straddles Raleigh. “‘s okay then? You sure?” Chuck grinds his ass cheeks against Raleigh’s dick, and Raleigh stops caring where they are or what they’re wearing, even if they were on the freaking Dam Square wearing nothing, he still wants to fuck, like,  _right now_ _._

 

“Yeah. Yes, yes, please,” Raleigh replies, already bucking his hips up, his hands gripping Chuck’s hips. Fuck, somehow, it’s way hotter that Chuck still has his shirt and jacket on and Raleigh’s still wearing his sweater.

 

And Chuck reaches back, squirts out lube over Raleigh’s dick and sinks down in one fluid movement.

 

Raleigh lets out a groan that possibly the whole block can hear. It’s  _so_ good. So yeah, he had anal sex before, but Chuck… Chuck’s ass is all silken heat clinging to him, and Chuck is doing _something_ with his inner muscles that feels like he’s pumping Raleigh and  _fuck_ , he’s losing it, totally losing it, eyes rolling back and hands scrambling for purchase on Chuck’s shirt, like he needs to hang on to Chuck or he’ll get lost in this.

 

“Mmmm, yeah, so good, Raleigh,” Chuck moans, and he grinds his hips down hard, burying Raleigh inside him balls-deep. “Love that big dick of yours, fuck…”

 

Raleigh uses all the upper body strength he can scrounge together to sit up, wrap his arms around Chuck, because he wants him close. Chuck is so soft inside, so loose and accommodating—Raleigh’s used to having to be so careful, so much tightness it hurt and didn’t feel good at all, not for him, not for her. And Chuck is taking in his whole length so easily, feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.

 

And shit, he realizes, he’s so close already, wants this to last longer, wants so much more of Chuck. Chuck’s still rolling down on Raleigh, pretty much fucking himself on Raleigh’s dick, all sorts of dirty exclamations falling from his delicious lips, when Raleigh buries in head in the crook of Chuck’s neck. “I’m coming,” he grunts, “You feel so good, I—fuck,” and then he’s emptying himself deep inside Chuck.

 

Chuck wraps his legs around Raleigh, smiles, kisses him. “That’s it baby, let it all go inside my ass,” he murmurs, even as he’s still slowly grinding in Raleigh’s lap. “So fucking hot.”

 

Raleigh finds himself laughing as he comes down from his climax. “You are such a potty mouth.”

 

“Comes with the job description,” Chuck says.

 

“W-what?” Raleigh stammers, and sure Chuck didn’t mean—

 

“No, no, nonono!” Chuck exclaims, cupping Raleigh’s face, covering it with kisses. “Fuck, I didn’t mean that this was—NO.”

 

Raleigh breathes a sigh of relief and pulls in Chuck closer. The movement makes him slip out, and then there’s weird, sticky sensation of his come trickling out of Chuck, creating a mess in his lap.

 

“For a second I thought you…” Raleigh whispers. “Because we didn’t really agree, or… I don’t know,” he mumbles. Clearly the amazing sex has also fucked with his intelligence.

 

Chuck slumps back and rests his head against Raleigh’s. “My fault,” he sighs. “‘m not good at this. Didn’t want to explain it all.”

 

By ‘it all’, Chuck probably means that whole mess with Jin, why he was such an ass to Raleigh at the club, whatever. And maybe he could explain, maybe he should, but Raleigh feels like it wouldn’t matter anyway.

 

“Just tell me,” Raleigh says, lifting Chuck’s chin up to look at him. “We’re like… this is a thing, right? I’m your…”

 

“Boyfriend,” Chuck says, and his face twists up as he says it. “Partner,” he says, and likes that better, evidently. “But the stuff I said before, about still hooking—”

 

“I know, I agreed,” Raleigh hurries. He’s squirming a little. The hallway is getting cold, and the cum drying up is feeling itchy and sticky. He wraps his arms around Chuck and then lifts them both to their feet.

 

“Please tell me you have a working shower,” Raleigh says. He picks his jeans up off the floor, but doesn’t even bother putting them on. He’s all gross now, anyway.

 

“I do,” Chuck smiles. “C’mon. Partner.” Holds out his hand. And Raleigh takes it. Partner to a hooker. He can live with that.

 


End file.
